Finn bounded ahead, sniffing and exploring, the plume of his tail waving like a happy banner. She smiled, watching him. She ought to get Hart a dog; dogs weren’t only good company, they never failed to cheer her up.

As she was watching, he dived into a clump of bushes. A rabbit? A hare? She waited, hoping it wasn’t a fox. But nothing, no animal came bursting out. Finn wasn’t the watch-and-wait kind of dog—if it didn’t run, he wasn’t interested. So what was he doing?

She called him, but he didn’t emerge. She called him again, and she heard a yip and a rustle, so he was in there. She dismounted and went to investigate. There was a kind of tunnel leading into the thicket where he and possibly other creatures had forced their way in. Bending double she entered.

And found Finn sitting with a small boy, a boy whose arms were wrapped around her dog. A boy about seven years old.

“Danny?” she said cautiously.

The child turned a dirty, suspicious face toward her. He peered out at her from behind Finn. “Who are you?”

“I’m George.”

“No, you’re not, you’re a girl.”

She laughed. “Yes, I’m a girl called Geor—” She broke off, suddenly realizing he’d spoken with quite a cultured accent. “But you’re not Danny, are you?” Her voice broke as she said, “You’re Phillip.”

He glowered at her, neither confirming or denying it. But she was certain now. This was Phillip. She said gently, “It’s all right, Phillip, I’m a friend. I’m married to the Duke of Everingham.”

He frowned. “My guardian?” he said doubtfully.

Relief and gladness rushed through her. Phillip was alive, but still frightened and suspicious—and no wonder. She spoke in a calm, friendly voice. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you, Phillip. Are you all right?”

He hesitated. “There were bad men. Kidnappers.”

“I know. But they’ve gone now.”

His arms tightened around Finn. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Your guardian paid the ransom, but nobody collected it. They must have left. Did they let you go?”

He gave a funny secretive smile. “Not on purpose.”

“You mean you escaped? That was clever of you—and very brave.” She could hear her horse, grazing placidly outside Phillip’s hiding place. “How about you come home with me now—back to Lakeside Cottage, I mean. I’m sure you must be hungry. Mrs. Harris will want to make you the biggest dinner with all your favorite things.”

The mention of Mrs. Harris seemed to convince him to trust her. He followed her out of the thicket, and stopped dead when he saw the horse. “On a horse?” He gave her a troubled glance. “I can’t ride.”